


Of Gods and Monsters, Fragment s4,1: late November, 2077

by bzarcher, solarbird



Series: Of Gods and Monsters [23]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Cake, Cooking, Domestic, F/F, Fucked Up, Grief/Mourning, Healing, Love, Memories, Oasis (Overwatch), Other, Recovery Day, Shopping, Splashdown Day, Talon Lena "Tracer" Oxton, Unreliable Narrator
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-17
Updated: 2018-05-17
Packaged: 2019-05-08 01:23:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14683503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bzarcher/pseuds/bzarcher, https://archiveofourown.org/users/solarbird/pseuds/solarbird
Summary: Moira O’Deorain has won. Her rivals within Talon destroyed, her trio of loyal Weapons - the Changed and copper-eyed Tracer, the silver-eyed Oilliphéist, and golden-eyed Widowmaker - at her command, to remake the world.Lena's all excited, because it's a holiday, and time to make a cake!This story - a side-step/alternate-ending sequel toThe Armourer and the Living Weapon- will be told in a series of eddas, sagas, fragments, texts, and cantos, all of which serve their individual purposes. To follow it as it appears,please subscribe to the series.





	Of Gods and Monsters, Fragment s4,1: late November, 2077

Lena didn't shop linearly.

She didn't really do very much of anything that linearly, not even before, and not even before before, but now, she _really_ didn't.

She also didn't really shop that often - at least, not for foods, or rather, not for ingredients for foods, because wow, she was not a good cook, but occasionally, she'd get into a mood to make an exception, and a few things - well, she could manage those quite nicely.

And so she teleported around the grocery, making sure not to get in front of anyone, but occasionally, someone would jump, and almost spill their basket, or drop what they had, but she'd just catch it and put it back in their hands, no harm done, away before they really even knew entirely what had happened, if they ever did.

Emily thought it was hilarious. Danielle though it was foolish. Store management thought it was nerve-wracking, but nothing bad ever seemed to come from it, so they stood back, out of the way, and watched, and hid, respectively.

_Right_ , Lena thought. _Egg substitute. Can't have real eggs._

She teleported over to the vegan section of the "Dairy" aisle, and poked about the selection. _One good thing about bein' this far south,_ she thought. _More choices in fake dairy!_

She grinned as she found her favourite brand of butter substitute, but didn't think so much of their options for egg replacements. So she read a bunch of labels and looked up results online, and came up with a combination of one brand she'd never heard of, plus a little boost of baking soda and vinegar, since it was for cake.

_Splashdown Day cake, have t'get it right!_ she thought, running through the recipe in her head. _I think that's it_. She'd got one jink away from checkout before she realised, _Peanut butter! We're out!_

She laughed at herself, teleporting towards the appropriate aisle. _Can't make peanut butter cake without peanut butter!_ They hadn't had any in the apartment, not in months, not since Winston...

Lena jerked, and stumbled, and fell, something she hadn't done, not once, not since she'd been reborn, the basket slamming hard on to the floor, and she slid into the display cabinets of specialty American and English food, the best foreign-foods selection in Oasis, and didn't even try to get up, she just curled into a little ball and sobbed as Widowmaker and Oilliphéist came ghosting, asking, what's wrong, what happened, what is it? and did not get an answer past please, please, please, take me home.

\-----

"We made it every year," she said, quietly, on the couch, finally speaking, her lovers beside her, her favourite tippy assam tea in a mug in her hands. "He'd make me a, a, a recovery day cake, and I'd make him a splashdown day cake, 'cause the two days were so close together, th' first day I was solid again after the Slipstream, th' day," she sniffed, "...he landed in the Mediterranean, the day he escaped from..." and she started sobbing again.

Danielle took the mug from her hands, and placed it silently on the coffee table, as Emily held Lena and rocked her gently. _Least we know what it is now_ , Emily thought. She didn't entirely understand grief, but she tried her best, even if at times like now it still didn't entirely click. But she could feel her wife's pain, and be there for her, and so, she did that.

"I am sorry, ma chérie," Danielle breathed, brushing her hand against through Lena's hair, petting her, soothing her, as often helped when she'd shatter like this. It hadn't happened in a while, but she knew, from Amélie's experience, that it simply was what it was, and that's all there could be for it.

Emily looked to her first wife, sad, and a little afraid. "She hasn't been this bad in... months. Are you sure we shouldn't have auntie just... fix it?"

Danielle shook her head, no. "I do not think..."

"No," Lena managed, wetly, and Emily looked at her, surprised she was talking again so soon.

She petted Lena's face, and brushed her hair back out of her eyes. "But..."

"No," Lena repeated, sniffling, reaching for another tissue.

"Okay," Emily said, trying to understand.

"We talked about it, once," she said, tossing the tissue into the trash, picking up another one. "Mum and me. A few months ago. After," she swallowed, "after Satya arrived."

"What did I miss?" Widowmaker asked, alert.

"Nothin', love. Y'weren't there. Wasn't such a big deal anyway." She reached for the tea, sipped some, sniffled some more, and put it back down. "We just... talked about it. But it... she said it'd dull my memories of him. Not much, wouldn't forget anything, just... dull 'em, a bit."

"Ah," Danielle smiled a sad little smile. "I think I understand." She didn't, not really, not entirely - but her memories of Amélie did, and that was good enough.

"Yeh," she smiled sadly in return, before glancing back over to Emily. "I wish I had a way t'say it that made sense to you," she said, to her other wife.

"She _needs_ this," Widowmaker said, to Oilliphéist. "It is part of her, part of _who she is_ , and always will be - though it will be less so, over time."

Emily concentrated on that, and nodded. "Even when it's... yeh, right, I think I... that part, I understand. Can't change this without changing her, then."

"Yeh," Lena said, overlapping Danielle's "exactement," and they both managed a little bit of a smile together, over that.

She looked over, and left, to the kitchen, and saw the bag of groceries on the counter. "Y'... brought it all home?"

"It seemed appropriate to make up for the disturbance," Danielle said. "Now that I know you were making vegan cake, it makes more sense."

Lena's face wrinkled up again, but she set her chin, and did not let herself cry. "Did... did I get th' peanut butter? I don't remember."

"It was in your hand. You wouldn't let it go until we got home."

"Good," she said, nodding quickly, once, eyes full of tears, voice a mix of sadness and determination. "We got any chocolate?"

"A bit," Danielle said. She'd been experimenting with confectionary, as of late, not even sure why. "Are you...?"

"Yeh," Lena said, shaking herself free, and standing, again. "I... I think I am. Y'don't have to eat any. You'll probably hate it. But I'm, I'm gonna make it anyway. Chocolate frosting, though. Not the usual."

"May I help?" Danielle asked, gently.

"I can be moral support," Emily offered. "I'll even try it."

Lena just nodded, and squeezed both their hands, before walking into the kitchen, pulling ingredients out of bags, and getting to work on Winston's Splashdown Day cake.

**Author's Note:**

> To follow this story, [subscribe to the series via this link](https://archiveofourown.org/series/972024), rather than to the individual eddas or sagas.


End file.
